Voldemort's Mistake
by Nosgoroth
Summary: A series of short stories that make fun of Voldie and company. Scene TWO, Take One uploaded!
1. Scene One, Take One

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Voldemort's Mistake

Disclaimer: The usual.

A/N: Thanks a bunch to my new beta, Confuzzler.

"Well, well, well..." Voldemort was hissing in delight while eyeing viciously the figure that was tied to a wooden chair, the only piece of furniture in the whole room. "It seems that I will finally have my prize, eh, girl?"

Being at such a short distance of finally getting his revenge on Potter, he had ensured himself some privacy with his prisoner, so that he could savour this moment of victory by psychologically torturing her. He paced back and forth, his eyes never leaving the girl, his sneer always in place.

She glared at him, her hatred finally overwhelming her fear. "You'll get no ransom for me, if that's what you're talking about." Hermione Granger had never actually seen Lord Voldemort before, and, the moment he had entered through the door, she had been paralyzed with horror. Now, however, her mind was swimming in hatred towards the... man?... that had caused so much grief to her best friend, Harry Potter.

Voldemort laughed. It was a cold, piercing laugh that resembled a serpent's hiss. "Oh, no, my dear Granger. It's not a ransom what I'm after." He continued pacing the room, obviously enjoying his little victory. "You know as well as I do that your... boyfriend," he spat the word "will uselessly attempt a rescue."

Hermione blanched. _Is he after Ron now? Why?_ She wondered. Now, that was another matter. She and Ron had been dancing around each other for the whole summer and more than half the school year. Harry and Ginny had usually acted as mediators just in time for a full-scale war to be prevented, the cause of it being either Viktor or that Veela. Or the Christmas Ball. Or Harry and Ginny's relationship. Or schoolwork. Or if Earth was round or flat. In the end, however, and much to Harry and Ginny's relief, they had found each other. The thought of Ron falling into Voldemort's hands was enough to make Hermione's resolve and boldness evaporate.

Voldemort had kept talking. "Potter will not have a chance when he walks through this door, invisibility cloak or not." He smirked at her.

Hermione blinked in astonishment. _Voldemort is an H/Hr supporter! _she thought. A sensation of amusement, then sickness washed over her. Much as she tried, she couldn't contain the words that escaped her mouth.

"Agh, no! I don't feel like that for Harry!" she said, looking revolted at the very idea. She brought a hand to her mouth, or rather, she tried, bound to the chair as she was.

Now it was Riddle's turn to blink. "Huh?" He had stopped in mid-pace. "But... you're the... you..." The Dark Lord's confusion was more than evident in his voice. "You're _supposed_ to!"

"Why?" Hermione asked. She was surprised to see such a flaw in Voldemort's plans. _Heh_, she thought._ I think I just blew up his little house of cards._

"He- he's the hero... and you're the girl, so that makes you two-" The Dark Lord looked utterly lost.

Hermione rolled his eyes and let out an indignant sigh. "Oh, please! Such immature thoughts are unbecoming to a Dark Lord."

Tom shook his head and turned back. "Nonsense. You're obviously trying to create a deception. You won't succeed, girl."

The bushy-haired teenager's exasperation made itself known with a frustrated, strangled and very loud sigh. "So short-sighted! History will remember you as the fool that tried to rule the world but ended up having an argument with a teenager about her love life! Harry would be overjoyed!"

Voldemort whipped about. "How dare you?"

Hermione shrugged. "Easily."

Riddle charged forth, his wand withdrawn. "You shall pay!"

Hermione glared at him. "How typical of people like you to attack defenceless people. Look at me!" She tried to open her arms in indignation, but couldn't. "I'm bound to this bloody chair!"

"Fine!" Voldemort was nearing the end of his patience. "So be it! _Rescinda_!" The multiple ropes that tied her to the chair gave way and fell to the floor.

"As a matter of fact, my dear girl, I prefer it this way." The Dark Lord levelled his thirteen-and-a-half inches of yew at the girl.

"The Great Dark Lord Voldemort," drawled Hermione. "who sought legendary battles against unarmed teenagers in his thirst for glory. Impressive indeed."

The exasperated Tom reached into his pocket and withdrew another wand. "Here you are!" Voldemort hissed, throwing it to the girl. "Are you happy now?"

"HAPPY?" Hermione yelled. "HOW DARE YOU? HOW CAN YOU EXPECT ME TO BE HAPPY WHEN I HAVE SUCH AN UGLY FACE BEFORE ME?"

Voldemort's snake-like eyes were so wide open that they almost popped out of their sockets. "WHAT? ME? UGLY? JUST SO YOU KNOW, WHEN I WAS YOUR AGE, I HAD HUNDREDS OF GIRLS LIKE YOU AT MY FEET!"

Hermione was very confident, since she had practised things like this over a hundred times with a certain redhead. "BEGGING FOR MERCY, NO DOUBT! YOU'RE SO HYPOCRITICAL! YOU SAY YOU HATE MUGGLE-BORNS WHEN YOUR OWN FATHER WAS A MUGGLE!"

"DON'T MENTION HIM IN MY PRESENCE OR-"

"STINKING COWARD ORPHEN WHO-"

"UNGRATEFUL MUDBLOOD-"

"YOU LOST FOUR TIMES TO A BOY!"

"GET OUT OF MY SIGHT!"

"GLADLY!" Hermione yelled. She opened the door, walked through it and slammed it shut before Voldemort had time to say anything. 

*******

Lucius Malfoy was patrolling the perimeter when he detected a figure that was coming his way. Whoever it was, he or she was huffing and muttering under his or her breath. When the figure reached one of the very few illuminated spots he saw that it was the mudblood.

He had expected her to start running for the hills as soon as she noticed him, but instead she kept on walking with angry strides. Lucius did what he thought was the most intelligent action.

He gaped.

The bushy-haired girl looked at him and yelled, "WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU'RE LOOKING AT?"

The powerful Death Eater stumbled back and fell to the floor, not understanding an inch of what was happening. "Wha... what are you doing here?" He had attempted to sound menacing, but his current position made him sound rather pitiful.

"YOUR DELIGHTFUL MASTER KICKED ME OUT! BE SURE TO SEND HIM MY REGARDS!"

With that, Hermione kept on walking, leaving a dumbstruck man on the floor, wondering what had just happened.

*******

An hour later, the portrait hole to the Gryffindor Common Room opened. Harry, Ron, Ginny, Dumbledore and McGonagall, who were the only people inside, turned sharply towards the entrance, wands outstretched.

"It's only me!"

The three words had different effects on everyone: Harry and Ginny opened their mouths and stayed that way; McGonagall clutched at her chest; Ron dropped his wand, not deciding whether to run towards the voice's owner or stagger back in astonishment.

The headmaster, however, remained composed and asked, "How did you escape?"

Hermione grinned. "I pulled a Ron."


	2. Scene One, Take Two

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Voldemort's Mistake - Scene One, Take Two

By Nosgoroth (Beta: Confuzzler)

"Well, well, well..." Voldemort was almost hissing in delight while eyeing viciously the figure that was tied to a wooden chair, the only piece of furniture in the whole room. "It seems that I will finally have my prize, eh, girl?"

Being at such a short distance of finally getting his revenge on Potter, he had ensured himself some privacy with his prisoner, so that he could savour this moment of victory by psychologically torturing her. He paced back and forth, his eyes never leaving the girl, his sneer always in place.

She glared at him, her hatred finally overwhelming her fear. "You'll get no ransom for me, if that's what you're talking about." Hermione Granger had never actually seen Lord Voldemort before, and, the moment he had entered through the door, she had been paralyzed with horror. Now, however, her mind was swimming in hatred towards the 'man' that had caused so much grief to her best friend, Harry Potter.

Voldemort laughed. It was a cold, piercing laugh that resembled a serpent's hiss. "Oh, no, my dear Granger. It's not a ransom what I'm after." He continued pacing the room, obviously enjoying his little victory. "You know as well as I do that your little... boyfriend," he spat the word "will uselessly attempt a rescue."

Hermione blanched. _Is he after Ron now? Why?_ she wondered. The thought of Ron falling into Voldemort's hands was enough to make Hermione's resolve and boldness evaporate.

Voldemort had kept talking. "Potter will not have a chance when he walks through this door, invisibility cloak or not." He smirked at her.

The door creaked open, revealing a very slim figure that Hermione had never thought she would be relieved to see. Voldemort, however, looked as if someone had used the Cruciatus on him.

"No! Not you!" He hissed in bewilderment.

"Why not, my dear?" The figure asked, offended by the Dark Lord's vehement reaction.

Hermione grinned. "Hello, Professor."

Sibyll Trelawney looked at her former student disdainfully. "Greetings, Miss Granger." Then she turned to Voldemort. "Mr. Riddle, I'm here to warn you."

Voldemort looked rather astonished. "Warn me? Why? About what?"

The Professor lowered her eyes. "No," she almost whispered. "Perhaps it is kinder not to say."

"What is it?" Voldemort said, getting dangerously curious.

"Don't trust her," said the tied Hermione to the Dark Lord. "She's been predicting Harry's death for three years now."

Voldemort blinked in consternation. "Why do you warn me?" He turned to Trelawney's insect-like eyes. "And you! Why are you trying to warn me? And what about?"

"It's a terrible thing, Mr. Riddle," she whispered conspiratorially. "I wish I hadn't seen it."

"Seen what?" Hermione asked ironically.

"Miss Granger," Trelawney scolded her. "You have no idea what haunts one who has the Inner Eye. The horrors that lurch in the forests of the future are unimaginable for the profane."

Voldemort urged her. "Yes, yes, I know, but what did you see?"

"Last night, in the heights of my tower, I gazed into my trusty crystal ball," said Trelawney with more drama than the whole of Hollywood together. "And..."

"And!?" Voldemort urged her again.

Hermione looked sideways at her nemesis. "You can expect just about anything. But especially a prediction of your ultimate demise."

"What I saw..." the Professor trailed off. "It can't be described with words."

"Sure it can," replied Hermione coldly. "If you as much as try."

"It was a terrible thing," she shuddered exaggeratedly. "Such violence..."

Voldemort groaned and walked to the other side of the bare room. "Are you going to tell me?" He asked between gritted teeth. "Or are you going to stay there and drool on and on about how horrible it was?"

Trelawney drew a shaky breath. "I saw... this chair," she motioned to the small chair to which Hermione was tied. "And a dead body on it."

"Now we're getting somewhere," hissed Voldemort icily. "Who was it?"

"If only I knew..." she sighed. "I only know that a snake lay curled beneath it."

The Dark Lord shook his head in annoyance. "Is that it?"

"I was about to leave the gazing for later, when I saw something else," she continued. "Potter, standing before the chair, his wand drawn. It was then that I understood that the dead body was you, Mr. Riddle."

Voldemort's snake-like pupils widened. "What?"

"Then Potter chuckled," she shivered again. "And turned away. And there you were, Miss Granger."

"Her?" The Dark Lord gasped. "But how?"

"I don't know," admitted Trelawney. "But, however she had done it, there she was. Kissing Potter passionately."

Hermione groaned inwardly. _Not again! The ruddy H/Hr supporters seem to be spreading. God help us all…_

"Oh dear," gasped Voldemort again. "I have to discontinue this timeline, so that the whole mess never happens." He grasped his wand tightly. "_Rescinda!_"

The multiple ropes that tied Hermione to the chair gave way and fell to the floor. The girl sprang up and stared at the towering, cowering monster. "Are you setting me free?"

"Go away!" Voldemort hissed. "Get out of here and never return!"

"Only if you give me my wand and promise to leave Harry alone."

"P- please, Granger, you can't take away my only purpose in life," the Dark Lord pleaded. "Take pity on me! Here, take your wand, and leave this god-forsaken place!"

"Fine," she said, picking the wooden stick. "Goodbye!" And she vanished through the door and into the darkness.

"And now, Mr. Riddle," Professor Trelawney said. "I will help you resume your training in the noble arts of Divination."

*******

An hour later, the doors to the Great Hall at Hogwarts opened. The people who were inside, namely Harry, Ron, Ginny, Dumbledore and McGonagall, turned sharply towards the entrance, wands outstretched.

"It's only me!"

The three words had different effects on everyone: Harry and Ginny opened their mouths and stayed that way; McGonagall clutched at her chest; Ron dropped his wand, not deciding whether to run towards the voice's owner or stagger back in astonishment.

Dumbledore, however, remained composed and asked, "How did you escape?"

Hermione chuckled. "I dare say... Voldemort's doomed."

"How so?" McGonagall asked unsteadily.

"You see," she grinned. "He employed a new counsellor."

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A/N: Wow, what a response! 24 reviews! Guess that means I'll have to write more…

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Khatt - ::grins:: More or less, that's the idea. I haven't started to get creative yet…

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Calm Serene – Perhaps you should read this when you're all alone?

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Bertie Bott – Thanks!

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Zion Destes – Well… It was something I had written a few months ago… Had I known it would be received like this, I would have posted it sooner.

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Draco'z Chick – I haven't started yet! I love picking on poor Voldie.

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Delila-malfoy – Already planned a few more…

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Ruskbyte – I know, I'm insane.

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Erin – Here it is…

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Caroline – I wasn't too sure about the ending, but everyone seems to like it.

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Geor-sama – Sorry about the delay in UPZ. I've been ill for more than five days, and couldn't get near the computer.

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Elfin Warrior Maiden – Hope this meets with your approval.

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Life0ca – Hmm… sounds interesting. I'll see what I can do.

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Whoever forgot to put a name – Thanks, it was intended to be.

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Mona **Lisa** – And again…

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Individuals (log in next time, damn it) – Heh, LOL actually sums it up. 

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Megan **Malfoy** – Here it is, then.

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Malexthehedgehog – Yeah, weird sums it up too.

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Gryffyn – Got to get writing faster…

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Marcie – Thanks! First try too…

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Jadewitch – Thanks a bunch!

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Dog-boy – Definitely funny, that line, huh?

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ZeonReborn – Truetruetruetruetruetruetruetruetruetruetruetruetruetruetruetruetruetruetruetrue.

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Sunny Angel – Expect chapter three in about a week or so.

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Ravenclaw – First reviewer! Yay! Thanks!


	3. Scene One, Take Three

Disclaimer: Hmmm… not mine, but I'm planning of getting it for Christmas.

Voldemort's Mistake- Scene One, Take Three

By Nosgoroth

"Well, well, well..." Voldemort was almost hissing in delight while eyeing viciously the figure that was tied to a wooden chair, the only piece of furniture in the whole room. "It seems that I will finally have my prize, eh, girl?"

Being at such a short distance of finally getting his revenge on Potter, he had ensured himself some privacy with his prisoner, so that he could savour this moment of victory by psychologically torturing her. He paced back and forth, his eyes never leaving the girl, his sneer always in place.

She glared at him, her hatred finally overwhelming her fear. "You'll get no ransom for me, if that's what you're talking about." Hermione Granger had never actually seen Lord Voldemort before, and, the moment he had entered through the door, she had been paralyzed with horror. Now, however, her mind was swimming in hatred towards the... man... that had caused so much grief to her best friend, Harry Potter.

Voldemort laughed. It was a cold, piercing laugh that resembled a serpent's hiss. "Oh, no, my dear Granger. It's not a ransom what I'm after." He continued pacing the room, obviously enjoying his little victory. "You know as well as I do that your... boyfriend," he spat the word "will uselessly attempt a rescue."

Hermione blanched. _Is he after Ron now? Why?_ She wondered. The thought of Ron falling into Voldemort's hands was enough to make Hermione's resolve and boldness evaporate.

Voldemort had kept talking. "Potter will not have a chance when he walks through this door, invisibility cloak or not." He smirked at her.

The door creaked open, revealing someone that Hermione had never thought she would ever see this way. Voldemort, however, looked as if someone had used the Confundus on him.

"What? You? But...?"

Hermione Granger stood on the doorway, looking as if nothing had happened at all. She walked to the tied Hermione and peered at her. "What am I doing tied to a chair?"

Voldemort blinked.

...

...

...

"I beg your pardon?"

The girl turned and looked at him with the best puppy dog eyes she could muster. "Why did you do this?"

Voldemort faltered. "I-I mean... I was j-just..."

The Hermione that was tied to the chair gaped at the other. "How are you here?"

"I turned back time so I could save you."

"Save me? From what?"

"A terrible fate I wish had never happened."

Voldemort brought a hand to the bridge of his nose, as if trying to prevent a headache from coming. "Now, see here, Granger. You're making no sense whatsoever. Here you are, breaking the Treaty of Restriction of Time Travel to save yourself from something that has already happened to you?"

"Correct."

"But..." Voldemort was at a loss. "Surely you must know that if you save yourself from it, your past self will not have a reason to go back and warn yourself against what has already happened to you, which is what you're saving yourself from."

The tied Hermione sighed. "Now you're the one making no sense."

Voldemort frowned heavily. "If you save yourself from something that will happen but that has already happened to you, you won't suffer that something so you won't save yourself from it in the next cycle."

"No, no, that's not the point," answered the standing Hermione. "I mean, Buckbeak was a Hippogriff, wasn't he?"

"Well, yes, but..."

"Then what's the problem?"

Voldemort blinked stupidly. "What does that have to do with ANYTHING?"

"Well," brightly observed future-Hermione. "I read about it in 'Hogwarts, A History'."

The bewildered Dark Lord shook his head sarcastically. "Oh, then I suppose it's FINE, since now we KNOW where you got that from! NOW IT MAKES SENSE!"

The tied Hermione turned around as much as she could. "What does 'Hogwarts, A History' have to do with Buckbeak?"

Voldemort shook his head. "That's what I'm asking. You know, Granger, you were a lot more coherent before turning back time."

"But I haven't turned back time!" Hermione protested.

"That's true," confirmed the other Hermione.

"Not necessarily," responded the Dark Lord. "You did turn back time at the end of your third year, didn't you?"

The standing Hermione nodded thoughtfully. "In that case your last sentence has a new meaning."

The chair-bound Hermione growled, exasperated. "Shouldn't we just start this all over again?"

The other Hermione nodded. "You're right."

"How did you arrive here?"

"I turned back time so I could save you."

"Save me? From what?"

"A terrible fate I wish had never happened."

"What was it?"

"I wish I could speak my mind freely," said the other Hermione. "I can only tell you that it happened out there." She pointed towards the door.

"Really? And when will it happen?"

"Any time now."

Voldemort, out of curiosity, rushed to the door, opened it, and peered around.

__

CLUNK.

The Dark Lord fell to the floor unconscious. Neville's head popped from outside, a monster grin covering his face. "I knocked out You-Know-Who!" He stepped into the room and Hermione saw that he was holding a large wooden hammer.

At roughly the same time, the supposedly future-Hermione suffered an incredible transformation. Her bushy brown hair became messy red, she grew half a foot and, ultimately, Hermione Granger became Ron Weasley.

"W-What?"

Ron grinned while untying Hermione. "Polyjuice. How good was the impersonation? Do I rate?"

"You fooled me all right." Hermione grinned back, relieved. "Thanks for coming, Ron. I don't think I would have been able to put up with him any longer. The idiot is an H/Hr shipper."

"No wonder he turned out this way... Rotten to the core."

"Where's Harry, by the way?"

"We knew it was too dangerous for him, so we had to keep him in the castle. What did you do in the end, Neville? The Full-Body Bind or the Dreamless Sleep Potion?"

Neville looked amused for some reason. "Neither. I told Ginny to keep him busy."

Ron flinched. "Ah. Well. In that case we'd better avoid Gryffindor Tower altogether. I don't fancy running into them..." He grimaced, "...while they're making out or something." He produced a piece of parchment from his pocket. "Portkey's ready."

The three of them got hold of the object and, just as they began to vanish, Hermione turned to Ron. "And what was that about Buckbeak?"

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A/N: Sorry about the long wait, but my exams were killing me. Next VM is already written and sent to beta, and I'll be leaving Voldie and Hermione… for now. Expect it in a few days. (Monday?)

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Geor-sama – I know. I just can't resist. Yes, yes, it's OK to feel sorry for Voldie (as long as it's not canon)

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Prism – Here it is. More coming!

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The Mad Fangirl – I'm on it!

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Mssr.Moony – She did as Ron usually does: yell like mad and get out of the situation with it.

Chocolate Mousse – Sure.

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Temporary Insanity – I think you'll like the next one more.

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Alquamor – Sorry about the wait.

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ZeonReborn – Hmm… deja-vu.

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Fntsyangel – I know, I just can't resist.

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Kitty – Aye aye, sir.

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Ravenclaw – I'll be resuming a normal rythm now, I think.

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Brooke Kenobi – A few more (planning on around ten for now, not all based on kidnapped!Hermione, of course)


	4. Scene Two, Take One

**VM- Scene Two, Take One**

It was certainly one of the best things that had happened to him in... in a long time. One could do only so much to avoid boredom when in such a self-aggravating position, and the deadly monotony of Hogwarts didn't help matters one bit. It had been more than four months, almost five, and Lord Voldemort was sick of being stuck to the back of Quirrell's head.

That afternoon, the disloyal ex-Death Eater known as Severus Snape had slipped Quirrell a note, telling him that he would meet him in the corridor where they now were. As the Dark Lord expected, Severus was late; it was already midnight.

It was a good thing for him that he had this surprise meeting to distract him. The smelly Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom was the place he frequented most, unfortunately. Quirrell had a knack for making the classes long, boring and utterly useless.

~_I'm not that bad a teacher!~_

Ah, yes. The only company he had. Quirrell could read his most superficial thoughts and vice versa, which meant telepathic communication. Sometimes he thought that he would have been more entertained if he could have shared Dumbledore's head. Sure, he hated the old man, but it would have been much more interesting to maintain interesting philosophical debates with a ready mind. But no, here he was, having memorized half the DADA theory of Hogwarts and listening incessantly to Quirrell's mind-babble.

_~I resent that comment, Master.~_

_#Why, we are bold today, are we not?#_

Defence Against the Dark Arts. Now, what _was_ that? The subject was completely ridiculous. Defence? Come on! They should have been teaching Dark Arts, not bloody pointless Defence. Oh, why couldn't they have hidden the Philosopher's Stone in Durmstrang? Those were sensible people; unafraid of a little pain to get whatever they wanted. 

_#Why didn't you become a Durmstrang Professor, Quirrell?#_

_~Before you showed me the right way, my master, I agreed with Dumbledore's idealism. Besides, I studied at Hogwarts.~_

_#What house? Hufflepuff?#_

_~Yes.~_

_#How unsurprising.#_

Hufflepuff. What a source of embarrassment for Quirrell's family, to have one of them become a Hufflepuff, the house where all substandard students were thrown into. And they actually said that they were loyal people, hard workers. Rubbish. Just a nice little euphemism to designate the lowest point of wizarding society.

_~Do you need to be so cruel to me?~_

_#That is not cruelty, my dear friend, it's reality.#_

_~Still...~_

The mere thought of himself having turned out as a Hufflepuff was enough to make Voldemort shudder. Anything but that. He would have readily accepted the idea of being a stupid Gryffindor before arriving to such extremes. At least Gryffindors had some bravery, a treat he valued. Then again, Gryffindor courage often became so predictable that they became easy to manipulate. Pull a few strings here and there, and you'll have any Gryffindor doing whatever you want.

The legendary Gryffindor thickness had led to many idiotic situations to the members of that house over the centuries. Only a Gryffindor would enchant snowballs to follow a Professor and bounce off the back of his turban. One day he would get the Weasley twins for it, Voldemort swore.

A swishing sound broke through the Dark Lord's train of thought. It was very faint.

_#Quirrell, you idiot, did you hear that?#_

_~Hear what?~_

_#Never mind. I suppose you weren't paying enough attention... Wait. I sometimes forget that you were a Hufflepuff. Of course you don't pay attention.#_

It had sounded like some sort of cloak. He tried to look around with Quirrell's eyes, but he found he couldn't.

_#Could you please explain to me why your eyes are CLOSED?#_

_~I was trying to hear that sound you mentioned.~_

_#And you have to close your eyes to do that?#_

_~Well, it helps.~_

Now it was probably too late to do anything about it. Where was he? Ah, yes. Hufflepuff worthlessness and Gryffindor foolishness. The Ravenclaws were far more respectable than the other two. The wizards assembled under the sign of the raven were those who had the brains but lacked the guts to be in Slytherin. The Ravenclaws were nowhere nearly as easy to fool as the others. They had a streak of intelligence that made them powerful allies.

Then there were the Slytherins. Pride and joy of the Wizarding world. Unequalled in talent and cleverness; unsurpassed in wit and perseverance.

_~And quite misunderstood.~_

_#Oh be quiet.#_

At that precise moment, a cloaked figure appeared from the shadows of midnight. About time Snape decided to drop by.

"Ah, Quirrell, I see you had the wits to come."

Wits? Of course he didn't. Fortunately for him, Lord Voldemort gave him strength.

_#Don't stand rooted to the spot, you foolish Hufflepuff, say something!#_

"I d-don't know why you wanted t-t-to meet here of all p-places, Severus..."

_#Amazing.#_

"Oh, I thought we'd keep this private. Students aren't supposed to know about the Stone, after all."

Voldemort could feel Quirrell's fear. He was trembling from head to toe, mumbling something that even with their mind meld couldn't be understood.

"Have you found out how to get past that beast of Hagrid's yet?"

_~What do I tell him, yes or no?~_

_#ARE YOU DAFT OR WHAT? FEIGN IGNORANCE!#_

"B-b-but Severus, I --"

"You don't want me as your enemy, Quirrell."

_#This keeps getting better and better. The greasy-haired git thinks he's a menace.#_

"I-I don't know what you..."

"You know perfectly well what I mean."

Snape suddenly did something unexpected. He looked sharply to his right and squinted at the shadows. Yes, now he could hear it too. Very faintly. Next time Quirrell took a shower, he would make sure he cleaned his ears. This was ridiculous.

Snape reached a hand to the faint swishing noise, and attempted to grasp the darkness.

_#What an idiot. What could possibly be there?#_

After looking somewhat disappointed, Snape grasped the front of Quirrell's robes and slammed him against the wall. Back of the head included.

_#OUCH! MY FACE!#_

Hadn't the turban been there, he was sure that he would have fallen unconscious.

"We'll have another little chat soon, when you've had time to think things over and decided where your loyalties lie."

With a final glare, Snape left Quirrell looking petrified, while the Dark Lord shook his head metaphorically, trying to bring the feeling back to his face. His nose had received the bulk of the hit. He was sure that it now looked as if he had slits for nostrils.

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A/N: Damn FFnet… it just wouldn't let me log in. For a week. But neither did Hotmail, so I guess it was my computer. Because I couldn't use Hotmail, I couldn't send this chapter to beta; that means, grit your teeth and bear with all the grammar mistakes I left behind.

**Alquamor** – I have no intention of dying twice, thanks. Come to think of it, I have no intention of dying, period.

**Ravenclaw** – No, no, I don't give up. Sometimes my life gets hectic and I can't update, but I don't give up! :)

**PajaroNegro **– Hmmm... are you Spanish? Because I am…

**Green Pig PROUD Hufflepuff** – You have a naughty mind, you know that? I only support one Draco ship: Draco/Not-a-Gryffindor.

Note that Voldie's opinion is NOT mine. I don't think that of dear old Helga's House.

**Temporary Insanity** – Oh! Oh! Plot bunny! Thanks! But, of course, it won't be Harry with the space-time-eraser machine, it'll be Voldie!


End file.
